Watchful
by Umuulan
Summary: A minor inconvenience provoked Dorothea to swear, and Ferdinand warns her of the grave consequences of bearing a dirty mouth, whose owner won't wake up with a gift ready to open under the tree on Christmas morning. Dorothea can't place whether her boyfriend wearing a worried pout, his index finger placed on his lips to shush his girlfriend, looked punchable or kissable. (Modern AU)


_Crossposted on AO3 under the same username._

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"Oh, _shit_!"

Dorothea shrieked when her pinky toe hit the leg of one of the kitchen chairs, the incredibly horrible sensation harshly coursing through her feet. She squeezed her eyes shut and repeatedly clicked her tongue as she brought her damaged foot in her hand as a fruitless attempt to ward off the tear-jerking soreness while her other hand gripped the edge of the table to balance herself. She might have bitterly spent her early childhood wandering the streets bare-footed, which meant stepping on the tiny littered glass shards of broken beer bottles and letting it sharply pierce through the sole of your feet had become second-nature to you. However, nothing could rival the indescribable pain of having one's own pinky toe collide onto a hard surface.

"Be careful."

A portion of her attention concentrating on her current anguish had redirected to Ferdinand's worried voice. Had it not been for the unbearable stinging in her toe, she would guffaw and playfully swoon over the boy's concern. Not that she was _that_ touched by Ferdinand's every sign of worry (_or was she?_), but come on, where's the fun on reassuring your boyfriend on every passing second like in those cliché romantic dramas instead of exaggerating your partially-mock thankfulness for his fear for your safety like in those cliché romantic comedies?

When Dorothea regained enough strength (though she was fully convinced seconds ago that the sting could never recover), she cracked her eyes open to peek at Ferdinand, who's supposed to be enjoying a nice cup of hot chocolate as he sat on the other side of the table. Instead of a mildly panicked look residing his cute face, she was greeted by what seemed to be Ferdinand shushing her, his index finger placed on his lips and his brows knitted so deep it could frighten Bernadetta until she falls for her (possibly literal) death, but never enough to win over Seteth-sensei's classic disappointed glare.

Dorothea frowned back, her hand still clasping her aching foot. Before she could open her mouth, Ferdinand hissed through gritted teeth, "Santa Claus is watching."

What?

Santa Claus is... _watching_?

Hold on a second, what on Earth had she done just now to disappoint Santa Claus? There's nobody even at fault in this situation. Wasn't she the one who's even hurt here? And why was she wondering all of this nonsense and not Ferdinand bringing up that make-believe-

"You do know that _he_ can listen to our every word and observe our every move at this very moment..." Ferdinand carefully said while lowering his finger from his mouth then took another sip of his drink, his amber eyes never leaving Dorothea's.

Okay, Dorothea knew that Santa Claus watches over the children of the world like some creepy god to decide whether their stocking deserved to store candies or coals, she didn't need Ferdinand to tell her that twice. That's basic knowledge, even you wouldn't catch an adult questioning the... questionable ways of the magical old man in red and white. Still, Ferdinand did not yet clarify her recent wrongdoing; it was starting to irritate her more than it should.

So Dorothea straightened up from her hunched posture, hands still not leaving her foot and the table, and deepened her scowl. On the back of her mind, she was somewhat impressed she managed to keep the scoff threatening to break free from her pouty mouth to herself. "And what did I do to have my name taken away from Santa's 'Good Girls' list, if I may ask?"

"You just swore!" Ferdinand exclaimed with both his hands outstretched, nearly spilling his drink with a _thunk_ at the process. When he caught his mug on time and muttered a small, 'My bad,' he continued rather sternly, "Surely you would know that Santa Claus does not appreciate children whose speech is littered with curses."

Oh.

"Although you may have instinctively cursed out of inconvenience rather than insert one on your daily conversations, which I suppose is excusable, it will be wiser to still keep your language in check. Otherwise, _he_ may not just gift you that chest box of '_Elice's Flavored Lip Balms_' you so desire to caress with your dainty hands for the past weeks."

_Oh._

Dorothea blinked and stared at Ferdinand. Judging by the frown (which now loosened a bit) that continued to camp on his stern expression, he didn't look like the man to back down until his stand prevailed no matter how pointless the argument would transition into.

Was Ferdinand von Aegir _seriously_ correcting her vulgar mouth to retain her name on the nonexistent 'nice list' as if the boy never outgrew the lies of the so-called Santa Claus's miracles and all that make-believe bullshit those greedy adults crafted and tricked him into believing as a child for their personal amusement? After all, the boy carrying his unstained past was known to behave several years apart from her since highschool, emphasis on his boasting eagerness to prove his nobility among the crowd plus his one-sided petty rivalry with Edelgard.

Or was this just his way of playing dumb and teasing his girlfriend? She swore as Ferdinand scolded his girlfriend, she caught glimpse of a glint of endearment passing through his eyes that greatly contrasts his disapproving face and firm tone.

Perhaps it's the latter. Six years of friendship would be a long enough time to memorize the other's behavior. Like all boys, Ferdinand might have inherited his dense nature from his father, but his brain size didn't match that of a dinosaur's. Although he appeared death serious on the entire childish matter, people could easily pass him as a ten-year-old possessing a twenty-one-year-old man's (hot) body.

She should feel pissed. The nerve of that boy for shutting her up on her most distressed moment. Idiot sounded like he never removed his stinking boots, let alone his pegasus-themed socks, to experience the agony of your own pinky toe threatening to rip off from your precious foot.

But why wasn't she? Why couldn't she snap back? Her head did not even steam one bit... and was that a wide toothy smile creeping up in her face?

While she did earn herself a boyfriend as a means to indulge in his constant love and attention her lonely six-year-old self would starve and die for, it's these silly moments when she'll gladly surrender to the big sister instincts taking over. All the disgusting men she testily answered to their attempt on courting the emerald-eyed songstress would always greedily invite her under their covers as soon as possible, but this grown man, who's currently lecturing his friend just so she could earn the gift they both know well would never arrive, had been the first she found herself fondly pampering over despite the numerous naughty activities they'd nervously engaged in.

The hearty laugh that bubbled out of her mouth raced first before words could make it out first. Despite her overwhelmed emotions, she faintly heard Ferdinand stutter in confusion, "D-Dorothea?"

"Oh, Ferdie," Dorothea purred and walked around the table to close the distance between both lovers. She raised Ferdinand's chin with a thumb and silkily said, "I don't need no present from Santa, you see~ Can't you tell I've got all I need for Christmas _right_ here?"

"Huh?" Ferdinand gawked up at her, not once picking up the signal of her flirty intentions. "Whatever do you mean? All the gifts we prepared for our dear friends are under the tree, isn't it? But unless there is one hidden in here, surely the kitchen is an odd place to hide a present..."

_Oh, Ferdie. So dumb and cute as ever. What a pair._

Holding back was out of the question now; she leaned down to kiss Ferdinand, who stiffened the second their lips touched. He tasted of the remains of his delicious sweet drink with a hint of bitterness mixed in. Without missing another beat, he then reciprocated without question.

Before the kiss could deepen that would lead both lovers shuffling towards the comforts of the sofa a few strides away, she licked the remains of the chocolate staining his upper lip before breaking away, a goofy grin sneaking its way into her features.

"Take a wild guess~" Dorothea winked and turned away, humming and skipping towards the countertop where the thermos stood, ready to serve more sweet sweet hot chocolate for the lovebirds. "Want some more?"

"Y-yes, please," Ferdinand spluttered from behind, clearly flustered from the intimate gesture. How adorable. They'd lost count of the kisses they shared behind closed doors, yet it still left him awkwardly fumbling for words. If there was one wish Dorothea wanted for Santa to grant for her, it would be for the day her lover could compose himself quickly right after a kiss to never come.

Ferdinand pulled Dorothea out of her wishful thinking when he cleared his throat louder than necessary. "I appreciate your attempt on flattering me, my love. However, don't kiss me as a distraction from lecturing you! It is my duty to help you maintain correct behavior under Santa Claus's watchful eyes until the day of Christmas when you and I were to receive our respective gifts from Santa Claus under the tree, and..."

Dorothea sighed. This game wasn't over for Ferdinand, was it? Oh, how she'd love to shut him up with another kiss and another and then another until he understood truly that the joy a colorfully wrapped box incite could never compare to the warm company of a loved one. For somebody, even just one person, to embrace Dorothea Arnault for who she was behind the flashy songstress title all the way to the scared and lonely child who used to bear the cruel world all by her tiny helpless self with her tiny helpless body, it's all her she would ever ask for if she was going to be perfectly honest. She would sing for eternity how grateful she truly was, that she would still be able to spend Christmas the way she used to dream as she scraped for leftovers of yesterday's holiday feast in the nearby trash bin and sulkily curl all on her own in the deepest depth of a snow-covered alleyway, freezing to near death as the festive world carried on.

All that was left forgotten was the pain in her pinky toe. Honestly, how could this boy not only heal her emptiness, but also her physical well-being? His magic surely matches to Santa Claus. Perhaps, she could input a rule where Mrs. Dorothea Claus may swear whenever she pleased without meeting the dire consequences of losing a gift on Christmas morning. Knowing Santa Ferdinand von Claus and his pure outlook on things, he would outright refuse.

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**Prompt**: ferdinand/dorothea + "_careful, santa's watching_"

Requested by stag-of-almyra of tumblr / almyran_stag of AO3.

Thank you for reading! Merry Christmas, ya'll! Hope you had a good one this year~ ;)


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